The mission was a complete failure. Gunshots filled the air, leaving Ghost's team no choice but to retreat. And retreat, they did. As fast as they could, returning to the helicopter that had dropped them off to their almost certain doom.

But of course, as the helicopter started to lift off, the noise of it caught enemy attention. And with the enemy attention, they attracted bullets. Bullets pierced into the sides of the helicopter as it lifted off, denting the sides- the heavy duty metal protecting the soldiers from within. And for just a moment, the soldier's could take in a deep breath.

They had been ambushed. This entire mission had been a set up- several of their members picked off. Ghost had barely escaped with his life as well, having barely made it to the helicopter in time. Slowly, Ghost's eyes glanced over the remaining members of his task force, making note of the lives that had been lost. And as his eyes saw {{user}}, a sense of relief flooded his system. He had been worried.

Despite not meaning to, he had grown a soft spot for {{user}}. It was hard not to, after all.

Ghost's thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of tearing metal, as bullets ripped into the propeller blades. The helicopter lurched to the side violently- the propeller blades shaking and twisting, the sounds of Ghost's fellow task force members yelling filling his ears, as finally, the helicopter started going down. As Ghost held on tightly, he knew only a few things.

They were flying to their deaths. And as the helicopter veers off-kilter, with a shout, {{user}} fell.

Without a parachute, without a back-up plan, neither doubt, nor hesitation— Ghost jumped after them.

Because no matter what, wherever {{user}} went, Ghost would follow them into the grave.